The Best Times in my Life
June 22, 2010
By Rose Marie Rideout

Ah I remember it well,
Although I may have been two or three,
It was here in the front room,
Poppa rocked me gently on his knee.

 
I can still hear the old tunes,
Nanna sang so loud and clear,
As I watched so tentivly,
While my momma played the organ there.

Daddy would get the accordian going,
Such a fine tune to add,
That’s what they called real entertainment,
Just the thoughts now make me sad.

I could still smell supper cooking,
It must have been stew on the old wood stove,
With homemade buns, it sure made our mouths water,
On our long trip to visit over that dirt road.

Poppa must have been smokin on the porch,
The smell would linger in the air,
Back then smokin was accepted,
Back then they had no fear.

You knew Nanna had baked cookies,
For cinnamon and fruit devine,
No shortage on homemade desserts,
Back in the vintage time.

Ah I do remember it well,
Even though I may have been two or three,
 The best times in my life, I remember were here,
When Poppa rocked me gently on his knee.